Fractured (Slated #2)

by Teri Terry

I want to cry for them, but I can’t. All I feel inside is cold, blind rage at what has been done.

She can’t study me if I am dead. She wants to know what makes me tick.

It is like two high-speed trains, hurtling toward each other, getting closer and closer to disaster.

There are so many threats to look for over my shoulder, I should install a rearview mirror to keep them all in sight.

Seeing what scares you for what it is does not lessen the terror. It still has the power to break your heart, over and over again.